Against All Odds
by Nerweniel
Summary: Co-written with Griselda la Fey. Minerva McGonagall is twenty, Auror-in-Training and she absolutely hates her ex-Professor Dumbledore. So what happens when he asks her to accompany him on a special mission?
1. Chapter One

**Against All Odds**

**Chapter One**

"Minerva! Minerva!"

As the high-pitched, excited voice echoed through the halls of the large house that was her home, Minerva McGonagall's irritated, green eyes looked up from the letter she'd been writing. Dropping her quill atop of her desk, she raised herself and straightened her heavy, emerald robes.

"Megara?"

Indeed it was her younger sister and only sibling, a wiry fourteen-year old, who came running into her room at a dangerously high speed. Her long, black plait bobbed as came to a stop right in front of her sister, breathing rapidly, the brown eyes she'd inherited from her mother sparkling in excitement.

"Megara," her elder sister sternly began, hands on her hips.

"Has the world stopped turning? Is hell freezing over?"

Totally not gripping the sarcasm dripping off her sister's voice, Megara confusedly shook her head.

"No."

"Then I see no reason whatsoever for making such noise. Clear?"

Knowing her elder sister's temper and having been a victim of it innumerable times before, Megara lowered her eyes and muttered an apology.

"Now what did you want to tell me so urgently?"

All of a sudden, Megara regained somewhat of her former excitement and hopped from her one leg onto the other. Grabbing her elder sister's upper arms- they were about the same height- she dragged Minerva along towards the large window, looking out over the long lane leading to the gates of the estate. A small coach was standing in front of the house.

"Megara, who-"

"Guess who, Minerva! Guess who!"

Megara was now positively shaking with badly concealed enthusiasm, causing Minerva to impatiently roll her eyes.

"Poppy, probably. Or Rolanda? Is it Rolanda?"

Megara widely grinned and shook her dark-haired head.

"No! All wrong! It's..."

She shortly coughed, as if preparing to make the announcement of the century, then exclaimed, clapping her hands like a toddler

"It's Dumbledore, Min! It's Professor Dumbledore!"

"What?"

Minerva clenched her slim fingers tightly around the marble window-sill, narrowing her already hind-sighted eyes behind her square glasses.

"In a muggle coach, naturally..." was her first, mumbled remark.

"Naturally. Yes, who else than can this be than Mr. Pink 'n Purple himself..."

Her facial expression, along with the irritated sigh with which she ended her sentence, was enough to make her younger sister frown.

"It's a gorgeous coach- and I just got a glimpse of him downstairs- he himself looks rather gorgeous too! You never told me he was gorgeous!"

Minerva immediately turned towards her sister, a stern expression fixed on her delicate feautures.

"Megara, first of all; you can stop using the word "gorgeous" now. And second of all, young lady, believe me, Albus Dumbledore is not "gorgeous"."

The other girl shook her head, though- the sisters were each other's equals in stubbornness.

"He is! Oh Minerva, you should have seen him- he's wearing the most..."

Any further discussion between the siblings was cut off, though, by a soft, polite knock on the wooden door that formed the entrance to the elder McGonagall's daughter's quarters.

"Yes?" Minerva turned towards the door.

Immediately, the door opened and a small creature stepped in, bowing lowly, its big, yellowish eyes smiling at the sight of its two young mistresses.

"Yes, Mitzy?"

"A gentleman has come to see you, Mistress Minerva. Master Malcolm told me to get you as quick as possible."

Minerva sighed and rolled her eyes, then straightened her robes in a rather irritated fashion and followed Mitzy and Megara downstairs, casting an annoyed glance at her overjoyed little sister. She did love Megara, a lot- was very fond of her in fact- but sometimes, the eternal enthusiasm and lively excitement just were a tad bit too much for her already quick temper. At the foot of the broad stairs, her father, Sir Malcolm, stood waiting for her, his hands fumbling nervously at the edge of his long cloak. His emerald green eyes lit up with worry as they locked with the equally bright ones of his eldest daughter. Minerva simply nodded, trying to fix a reassuring smile on her thin lips, yet not entirely succeeding. As much as she irritated herself, she realized she did really wonder about the reason of this surprise visit of her ex-teacher.

She'd left Hogwarts and her Professor two years earlier, and she had always believed that her feelings of not exactly wanting to see him again had been entirely mutual. Yes, she had been a good student- his top student, even- and yes, he had been her Head of Hourse, but around her 6th year, he had started to irritate her. The way he joked. The way his eyes twinkled. The way his clothes were always exactly the wrong colour. The way he didn't seem to be able to take anything serious. And the way every single girl at Hogwarts pined for a simple glance of her handsome Professor. That was perhaps the thing she hated the most. And then the sickening way he smiled at them- in an almost "fatherly" fashion, and that while he was in fact such an absolute idiot.

True, during her first years at Hogwarts, Minerva, too, had always thought him to be rather handsome, and so nice.

How wrong she'd been. For now, merely two years after leaving the school, Minerva simply couldn't believe how she'd ever been able to be stupid enough to think him anything else than the joking, incapable-of-teaching idiot that he was.

It was with those sentiments that she entered her father's study, and it was with those sentiments that she, after Sir Malcolm had closed the door behind her back, greeted the wizard who'd been waiting for her with a stiff, rather formal bow of the head.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore."

"Good morning, Miss McGonagall!"

Albus Dumbledore, as the gentleman he undoubtedly was, had stood up and bowed as soon as the young lady had entered the room, and as Minerva looked up at him, she rather reluctantly had to admit that he indeed did look quite smart. The dark blue muggle suit which he wore made his eyes stand out even more- and Minerva admitted that, without that insane, absolutely idiotic twinkle in them, they would have formed a somewhat attractive feature. To some women.

Yet Minerva almost snorted as he, with a smile, remarked

"That's a fairly long time ago indeed, Miss McGonagall. I had almost forgotten you were quite the beauty!"

Now was there one more clichéd, fake and absolutely untrue remark he could ever have made? Minerva had to take pains in not allowing her polite smile to slide off her lips. She'd never considered herself so much as just commonly pretty- and she had never really cared either. If he wanted to flatter her by making insipid remarks about her outside appearance, then oh how mistaken he was. As the only female Auror-in-Training she was used to being judged on her looks alone- but she'd fought it from the very first day onwards and in a way, she had succeeded as well. Minerva McGonagall was the top student of the small group of seven young people, and she was proud of it as well.

"It is indeed quite a time ago, Professor. But- excuse me, without having any intention of appearing impolite or ungrateful- may I inquire about the reason of this sudden visit?"

It was a polite way of being impolite, Minerva knew, but she could hardly suppress her all of a sudden fiercer than ever curiosity. One glance at her ex-Professor told her what she had known all along- he had come here for a purpose, and she had to admit she did want to know it, despite every feeling of dislike towards her visitor.

It also did kind of take away the oh-so-attractive twinkles in his eyes. He sighed, falling back onto the chair that had probably been appointed to him by her father.

"I suggest you take a seat, Minerva- can I call you Minerva again, by the way?- because this will probably take some minutes..."

And Minerva sat down with a sigh, preparing for a very long couple of minutes...


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"Do you remember Tom Riddle?" her former professor asked in a serious voice.

Whatever she had expected it was not this question and she was unsuccessful in hiding the surprise from her face. "Yes, I do professor".

And she did. After all he had been Head Boy. At first when she'd just met him she had felt pity for him. She'd known that he went to a Muggle orphanage every summer and that he hated every minute of it. There was an air of loneliness around him. She always felt cold when she was around him. A tall, thin boy with a pale face and high cheekbones. His dark hair and eyes always contrasted oddly with it.

"Very well", Albus Dumbledore's voice sounded doubtful and this irritated her even more. "May I ask... were you on good terms with Mr. Riddle?"

"Well...", Minerva stammered, her confusion growing. A change had come over the man in front of her. He no longer looked cheerful. His voice sounded focused, as if he was concentrating on something.

The truth was, she hadn't been on good terms with Tom Riddle. In fact, she had disliked him greatly. And she had always scolded herself for it. She considered herself to be a fair person, standing above trifle things as House rivalry. And Tom had never done anything to justify her dislike. He had always been polite and intelligent. An adequate Head Boy.

And yet, he made the hairs of her neck stand up. For a while she had believed it was his mouth that irked her. There was something about the thinness of his lips, which were almost as pale as his skin. The brisk way he moved them. Sometimes it was just a flash of an expression, but it caused her to shiver.

Later she had berated herself for it. As if the shape of one's mouth told anything about a person's character. But she still could not bring herself to like him.

Deciding to answer the Professor's question she chose her words carefully, "There have never been any difficulties between us, but I cannot say that we were on good terms. I did not like him".

His expression did not change, but the next question came immediately. "Why not. He was... is a smart, intelligent person, such as yourself. One would think that despite the differences between Gryffindor and Slytherin, you would make good friends".

For a second, but only for a second, she lowered her eyes under his scrutinising gaze. Then she looked fiercely back in his eyes. After all, she did not have to justify her feelings to Albus Dumbledore.

"I cannot explain why, sir, but the truth is that, as inappropriate as it might be, I do not like him. I feel that I cannot trust him".

He held her gaze and for some reason she was unable to look away from it. His blue eyes bore deep into hers and a peculiar sensation washed over her. She felt as if he was looking right through her.

After a few moments he relaxed back in his chair, a smile around the corners of his lips, the silly twinkles returning in his eyes.

"Very well then", he said. "Do not fret over your feelings, Minerva. I must confess that I have the same".

"I too do not trust him", he added.

Her eyebrows knotted in surprise. And her impatience was about to get the better of her. What could he mean? Why didn't he just cut to the point?

"What do you mean by that, sir?" she asked.

"Minerva, I have reason to believe that Tom Riddle has joined Grindelwald", Albus Dumbledore stated calmly.

Well, now she had a reason to hate him. Anger boiled up inside her. Not the usual superficial annoyance that came with her quick Scottish temper, but genuine anger. The anger that was linked to hate.

"How can you be sure?" she asked icily.

"As I have said before, I too do not trust Tom Riddle", he answered. "I have kept a close eye on him over the past years and what I have seen worries me. Tom Riddle's father may be a Muggle, but his mother comes from a very powerful Wizarding family. She is a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin".

"Slytherin?" Minerva couldn't help but gasp in shock. Although she know that up to some point the house rivalry at Hogwarts was just a game she knew that there was a fundamental difference between Gryffindor, the house of the Lion and Slytherin, the house of the Snake.

"Tom Riddle is much alike his grandfather", Dumbledore continued, "Salazar Slytherin has sought his whole life for power and I believe that Tom is seeking it too".

"And he thinks he will find it in Grindelwald", Minerva muttered, a look of total loathing on her face.

"Precisely", Dumbledore nodded. "But there is more".

Minerva's head shot up. Finally, the man was coming to his point.

"Grindelwald is planning an attack on the Ministry of Magic..."

"How?" she spat, jumping up from her chair. "How does he plan to do that? Does he really think he can just march in there? The nerve of that man..." she halted abruptly when she heard his amused chuckle.

She felt a twinge of embarrassment because of her emotional reaction, but most of all she was angry.

Here the great Albus Dumbledore was, calmly telling her that Grindelwald, that piece of villain was planning an attack on the Ministry of Magic and he had the nerve to laugh! With great effort she pulled herself together.

"Pray, do continue", she muttered with stiff lips, straightening the skirt of her robes.

"Thank you", Dumbledore replied, amusement still evidently written over his face. "Of course Grindelwald will not attack the Ministry single-handed. He is gathering his alleys as we speak, with Tom Riddle among them. I actually believe that Riddle is a highly important tool in Grindelwald's scheme. At this moment they are in Storsjön".

"Storsjön?" Minerva repeated once again surprised.

"That's in Sweden". Dumbledore added kindly.

"I know it is", she replied, barely holding the disgruntled tone out of her voice. This patronising attitude was another thing she so disliked about him.

"The reason why I am telling you this", Dumbledore continued, "is because I want you to come with me to Sweden".

His question, or rather his statement hung between them and Minerva couldn't help but feel cynical. Why would he want her to come with him? What use could she be in this? Why had he picked her of all people?

"The Ministry is setting up an Auror camp in Storsjön", Dumbledore explained further. "The best Aurors of our community will be there, Moody, Cageman, Stickfish, Van Detta, myself and some others. I want you to be there as well".

"But I'm still an Auror-in-Training", she pointed out to him, "how can I be of use?"

"Because we need someone beside myself who is gifted in the area of Transfiguration.", Dumbledore answered. "And that makes you the most logical choice. Your NEWT-results for Transfiguration were extraordinary. Actually, you were only one point behind me".

She knew that. And it had annoyed her greatly at the time.

"Our main goal will of course be to end Grindelwald's reign", Dumbledore added solemnly.

It was then that she made her decision. She would do anything to stop Grindelwald and his violent madness. She had sworn she would and this was the perfect opportunity to fulfil that oath. A determined gleam appeared in her green eyes and she nodded briskly. "Very well Professor Dumbledore. I will accompany you to Storsjön".


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Minerva sighed as she quickly threw some clothes into a small suitcase. Since they were going to Sweden, she'd picked them from her so-called "winter wardrobe", but honestly, her looks were the least of her worries now.

"Minerva, why are you going if you don't like him?"

She almost rolled her eyes as she turned around, looking straight into the honest brown eyes of the plaintive, lithe figure that was her little sister. Megara's arms were crossed, the head slightly flopped.

"Meg, have you ever really thought of the existence of something called, um... duty?"

"It was a question answered by a question, Minerva knew, and she knew she was being unfair as well. Megara was but fourteen years old, how could she ever realize the core of this business, that which was even confusing to her, to Dumbledore?

As her little sister bowed her head and started studying her own fingernails, Minerva sighed and walked over to her, throwing an arm around her slender shoulders.

"Meggie, I know you think that what I am doing is useless- stupid even. But it is not, I promise you. I cannot let him leave on his own now, after he's asked me to accompany him. Think about Seanair, think about Seanmhair, and then answer my question. Is it worth it? Is my travelling to Sweden with a man I neither like nor esteem worth the chance of revenge on their murderer?"

Megara couldn't possibly give another reply than

"Yes, it is."

But her brown eyes, so different from her elder sister's, gave away the fact that she hated letting Minerva leave. Minerva, ever-observantly, noticed that too and softly squeezed her little sister's small hand.

"Will you come back, Min?"

The softly spoken sentence of her usually so noisy sister, along with the begging look in her eyes, nearly broke Minerva's half-frozen heart. She hugged the slender girl and determinedly nodded.

"Of course I will, Meggie. I won't get myself killed- Dumbledore, that's another story, but I won't!"

This got the smaller girl smiling again, but still with that serious look in her eyes, Megara shook her head.

"Dumbledore shouldn't get killed either... Grindelwald has killed enough people, as you said... but Min, will you please be careful? And will you write to me?"

With a soft kiss on her sis's cheek, Minerva made that promise.

"Have you packed everything, Minerva?"

"Yes, Father."

Minerva looked up from the book she was reading. After finishing her packing, she had decided to go to bed early, but the inviting cover of "Pride and Prejudice" on her bedside table had once more proved irresistible and she'd ended up curled up in her chair in front of the fireplace.

Now, probably hours later, her father stood in the door-opening, smiling at the peaceful sight of his eldest daughter. There was worry in his eyes, though, and Minerva lowered her stocking-clad legs to the floor again, inviting her father to take a seat. He did as she silently asked, still smiling but with a serious gleam in his dark green eyes. His big hand squeezed her thin one as he silently nodded.

"Well, daughter, you have made your choice."

The so-called optimistic tone in his low, baritone voice didn't deceive his daughter. She knew he was afraid, and she knew he basically didn't want her to go. She voiced that idea immediately.

"I know you don't want me to go, Athair. "was her calm reply, laying the book aside with a faint sigh. Why oh why did this have to be so difficult?

"But I have to- I promised to do everything in my power to help destroy Grindelwald, and so I will. I am sorry I haven't waited for your approval, though..."

The tall man with the quiet eyes simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"You haven't needed my approval for any of your actions since many years, Minerva. You know that." he answered warmly.

She smiled and nodded.

"I know that, Athair, but it still means a lot to me. And it pains me to see you sad because of my decision."

The man shook his head and looked into the eyes of his brave, eldest daughter, assuring her of the mistake in what she'd just stated.

"I am not sad, Minerva. I am frightened. Since- since..."

Tears in his eyes were blurring the misty green, and Minerva looked down at both their hands.

"Since Moira's passed away, you've been this family's engine. Without you, we would have collapsed, we would have been lost. Your mother was and is..."

He soundly swallowed, and Minerva bit her lips. The thought of her mother, who'd passed away some years earlier, was still difficult to her. To both of them, in fact.

"...very dear to me, to us all. But while we totally lost it- I as well as little Megara- you fought on, you didn't give up, you just straightened your back and used all that natural stubbornness that flows through your veins to not bow, but to live. You lived, Minerva, and you kept up alive. We cannot lose you- I have come to rely very much on you, my daughter..."

Here, he trailed off, but Minerva saw the tears in his eyes and knew they were readable in her eyes too. Softly squeezing her father's large hand, she shook her head.

"And I will never leave you, Athair, nor will I ever leave Meggie. I'll always be your daughter, but please understand I cannot neglect this duty either. It's something I have to do, even though I dislike the person who will be my companion."

This made her father smile again. He knew his daughter didn't like her ex-teacher, and though he had never quite understood that rather irrational dislike, he had accepted it. His mature, wise daughter probably knew what she was doing. On that day, though, he thought it his duty to at least a bit soften her spirits.

"Minerva, I know Professor Dumbledore, and he's a good man. I know you don't like him, but give him a chance. You have to co-operate, that's simply necessary. You have to co-operate to survive..."

It was the second time that night that Minerva made a promise- but even though she had both meant them, she knew the second would be the hardest to keep.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter 4**

**Additional disclaimer:** The characters of Jeff Cageman and Simon Stickfish are based on the characters from a Dutch comedy 'When happiness was still very normal'

A cold, frosty January morning, two days after Dumbledore's visit, found Minerva waiting at the small station of Hogsmede. It was still dark and she shivered despite the long, black Muggle coat she was wearing.

"It's still in the middle of the night", she muttered, rubbing her gloved hands together in an attempt to get them warm.

At 7.00 precisely the puffing and steaming Hogsmede Express rolled into the station. Minerva took her trunk from the platform and stepped on the deserted train.

She looked at the trunk with some annoyance. She had always prided herself on being a woman who didn't need to take much with her. And at first she had only packed a small suitcase. But during the last day no less then four letters had arrived from Dumbledore, asking if she could bring various instruments, books, pieces of clothing and other things with her. As a result she felt now as if she was carrying Madame Malkin's spring collection.

It didn't take her long to find a compartment and after levitating the trunk on a luggage rack she settled down.

The first part of her trip would bring her to the harbour of Aberdeen. Since that was still in the east of Scotland the trip wouldn't take longer then an hour. After that she would travel further by Muggle transportation, which explained her Muggle attire.

Underneath her calm, collected extensor, she felt a thrill of excitement. She had of course been to Europe before, but always in the Southern countries such as France and Greece. She had never been to Scandinavia and from what she had heard of it, she was looking forward to it very much.

She gazed out of the window and watched the sun rise from behind the hills of the Scottish countryside, biding a silent farewell to her home.

Perfectly on time the train arrived in Aberdeen. The harbour was much more crowded and she had just barely enough time to get from the platform to the quay were the ship lay.

Settling in a small restaurant on the upper deck she spend five hours reading and writing letters to Poppy and Rolanda. At noon she took a light lunch and then went outside.

Despite the fog she could see the coast of Norway in the distance. Checking her watch she realised that in half an hour she would arrive in Bergen, one of Norway's harbours. Breathing in the salty air of the sea she tried to shake off a feeling of loneliness that crept over her.

Barely twenty and she was about to join a mission against the darkest wizard of their age among a group of top Aurors. Would she be able to take her position between them? Without the support of her family, her friends?

She shook her head angrily, trying not to picture her family home, her father and Megara in her head. She would be fine. She would be strong. She had to be.

Once she got of the ship she decided to walk to the station of Bergen. From there she would take the train to Osterund, a village near the lake of Storsjön. Thankfully she didn't have to change to another train again. But on the other hand, it was a four-hour train ride and she was dreading it.

When she arrived at the Station of Bergen she paused for a moment looking around and studying the signs to see where she had to go.

"Good afternoon, Minerva", a cheerful voice spoke behind her.

She sighed deeply. This was the reason why she didn't look forward to this part of the trip.

Turning around she forced a smile on her face as she greeted "Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore".

She eyed him suspiciously but couldn't find any fault at his appearance. He too was dressed in Muggle clothes. A suit and a knee-length, brown coat to be precise.

"We need to be at platform 12", he informed her. "The train will leave in fifteen minutes".

"Then we better hurry, Professor", she replied practical.

She reached out for her trunk but pulled back as if she had burned herself as her fingers came in contact with his hand instead of the handle of the trunk.

"Allow me", he said pleasantly, his eyes twinkling a bit more then usual.

But Minerva was never a person to accept gallantries. Especially not from Albus Dumbledore.

"I can assure you that that won't be necessary, Professor", she retorted crisply. "I am perfectly capable of carrying my own trunk".

In reply he made a courteous movement with his hand. "As you wish".

Dragging a full-packed trunk through a Muggle station was not Minerva's idea of fun and by the time they reached platform 12 she almost wished she had accepted his help.

Until she looked up in his still twinkling eyes. Straightening her back, she lifted her chin a little higher and stepped on board of the waiting train. Once again they managed to find a compartment to themselves and they sat down opposite of each other, next to the window.

After a second however, he got to his feet again and started to unbutton his coat. He folded it neatly and placed it on the seat next to him. Then he unbuttoned the jacket of his suit and sat down again.

Minerva closed her eyes briefly in sheer horror.. What on a first impression had seemed to be an innocent, crimson red tie, turned out to be a tie with the print of an enormous, violently yellow star on it. A star with a smiling face of course.

"You have no idea how difficult it is to find an amusing tie in a Muggle-store", he said smiling, catching her staring at it.

"Really now?" she asked, unable to hide the sarcasm out of her voice.

For the next hour she did little else then staring at the ridiculous tie, inwardly fuming with anger.

He was mocking her and the entire mission they were on! Couldn't he just be serious for a day? Or for the four hours they were forced to spend in each other's company? How could they ever stand a chance in this war if this fool kept joking around?

He tried several times to engage her in a conversation but she responded with short, mostly one-word replies, wondering if it would be too rude to take 'Pride and Prejudice' from her purse and start reading.

Eventually the beautiful scenery outside managed to divert her attention. She began to think that Norway was hold together by bridges, so many rivers they passed. In quick order the train drove through Ardal, Dombas and Støren.

Around three o' clock they reached the boarder to Sweden at Storlien. After a short delay because of the Customs, the train began to pick up speed.

"Only two more hours before we reach Osterund", he told her. "Our camp is located in a field near the town".

A trolley entered the compartment and beside drinks and snacks the woman sold newspapers as well. Dumbledore bought a Svenska Times and started reading it. Minerva felt free now to take up 'Pride and Prejudice'.

Therefore the last hours of their trip were spend in a somewhat enjoyable matter.

In the last half hour they crossed two rivers that were both connected to the Lake of Storsjön. The Kallsjö and the Indalsälv.

In Osterund they got of the train and from a quiet, secluded spot outside the station they apparated to the Auror camp.

Minerva looked around her when she landed on a moist meadow. A few feet away she spotted a strange building. It looked somewhat like a tower, but it wasn't really high enough for it.

"There it is", Dumbledore pointed. "That's our camp. It used to be a mill, but the sails have come of some decades ago. I can assure you that it's more comfortable on the inside then it looks on the outside"

Looking once again the building, Minerva could see a mill in it now. Once inside she found to her surprise that the mill was much more spacious then it appeared to be on the outside.

"Upstairs are rooms for the Aurors", Dumbledore explained. "I believe your room is on the second floor. The stairs over there lead to the underground rooms. That is were we have our meetings and gatherings".

"Very well", Minerva nodded, taking in her surroundings with approval. They looked very practical.

"If you would follow me downstairs, there are some people I would like to introduce you to", Dumbledore said, gesturing to the stairs.

Minerva followed him and found herself in a large room. There was a fireplace with a couch and a couple of comfortable chairs around it on one side and a large table with a dozen chairs on the other side. Four men were present in the room and she recognised one of them as her friend and trainer Alastor Moody.

"Gentleman, allow me to introduce our latest addition to you", Dumbledore announced. "This is Minerva McGonagall. She has almost finished her Auror training and is very gifted with Transfiguration".

Despite her dislike of Albus Dumbledore and vexed with herself, Minerva found herself blushing a little at his words.

The sharp, unpleasant voice of a fat man sitting on the couch cut in. "What's that suppose to mean, Dumbledore?" he asked, coming to his feet with difficulty. "We can't have a woman here!"

He let out a sneering laugh. "A woman... that's just ridiculous".

"Minerva, this is Jeff Cageman", Dumbledore replied calmly.

"Please to meet you", Minerva said coldly, disliking the man immediately.

"Dumbledore you can't be serious", Jeff Cageman continued. "A woman as an Auror? That must be a joke. If she was here to cook or clean... alas... but as an Auror! Men are calling the tune over here!

'It were always the same, stupid prejudices', Minerva thought wearily. She opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore spoke first.

"That's enough Cageman", he said sharply. "Miss McGonagall is a very capable young woman and I have full confidence in her. You and everyone else here will treat her as an equal".

A little startled, Minerva looked at him, but when he returned her gaze she saw that the twinkles were back in his eyes and that he was smiling merrily again. And once again she felt a rush of the familiar annoyance.

"Furthermore over there is Mr. Simon Stickfish", he pointed at a short, almost bald man who was eating a plate filled with five or six meatballs. "Nice to meet you", he winked at her.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Stickfish", she nodded back.

"Of course you know Alastor Moody", Dumbledore continued.

A genuine smile crossed over her face this time as she greeted him warmly. "Hello Alastor, it's good to see you again".

"It's good to see you too, Min", he answered in his low voice.

"Over there is Carl Dam and Elias van Detta isn't present at the moment. He is an undercover agent, trying to gain information from within the circle around Grindelwald", Dumbledore finished.

Two hours later, Minerva had unpacked her trunk and finished her dinner. She was just chatting amiably with Alastor who she hadn't seen for several months, when the door flew open and a tall, black haired man appeared on the doorstep. He looked dishevelled and his robes were dirty, but there was a triumphant look on his face.

"Elias, what is it?" Dumbledore asked, getting to his feet.

Elias van Detta threw off his cloak and looked around him with beaming eyes. "I have news about Grindelwald's plans", he announced.


End file.
